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Gather round the glass and grab hold of your ladies
Weâll send off Karskyâs Soldiers one by one
Weâll drink your health by the fire, keep one step ahead of hell
Cuz dead men never see the rising sun
Has it come right down to this your timeâs run up at last
Thereâs no one left to hear your dying song
And as you board your ship to sail from these forgotten shores
We handful who are left will send you on
May your passage be fast, may you find your peace at last
On the other side of deathâs eternal door
But donât reach for the Cross, your hands arenât clean enough
Just pray that someone settled up the score
Buried in a ditch, just outside the chapel wall
Two diggers sang you Near My God to Thee
And the pastor read a sermon founded in the book of Job
Such words would make a faithless man believe
May your passage be fast, may you find your peace at last
On the other side of deathâs eternal door
But donât reach for the Cross, your hands arenât clean enough
Just pray that someone settled up the score